Because You're Mine: Accompaniments
by ProfessorAmaya
Summary: Added content for my FFVII story, 'Because You're Mine'. Not all of it will focus on Reno, or even the OC I created. Some of it should be read in conjunction with existing chapters of the main story, and others could be stand alone. I will try to add them as they are relevant, chronologically or otherwise. Some will be edited to M as they were originally written with MA ratings.


**Don't Think Twice**

**Accompaniment 01 to 'Because You're Mine: a FFVII Fanfiction'**

****Accompaniments 01-07 are to advisably be read prior to and in conjunction with Chapters One and Two. They offer additional information (as well as shameless smut originally; I've had to edit those bits for compliance with fanfiction . net's rules). Accompaniments 08-11 chronologically take place prior to Chapter Two, but will contain MAJOR plot spoilers for further chapters, and so should only be read prematurely AT YOUR OWN DISCRETION. I would say begin reading them after Chapter Ten or so otherwise. Yes, the implication here is that I have a good bit already written; this will be nice for readers as it gives me a cushion for updates if I slack off.**

* * *

**E**ver since that encounter in her quarters, the day she'd been made a Turk instead of a SOLDIER, she had avoided him. Not any more than usual, per say. Or at least that's what the casual observer would think. Reno knew differently. Carys was no longer making eye contact, she no longer had quite that same warmth in her eyes that told him she was internally smiling at him or something he had said or done, and she absolutely did not touch him. That had been over two weeks ago, now. Grinding his teeth absently in his frustration, he ignored Rod's chattering in his ear over the headset. All his focus was bent entirely upon the job at hand: right that second, it meant coming in to refuel in Rocket Town. Yet all his hard-kept focus was shot straight to hell when he saw the other chopper—_**her**_ chopper!—already on the first heliport. It made his breath catch: she was supposed to be on house arrest: what that meant was not leaving her quarters, except with explicit permission from the President and even then, only under the escort of Veld or Tseng. That was the last Reno had heard, anyway. Now, to see her lower body extending from beneath the chopper as she did the usual checks and possibly repairs? Well, it did things to him. He could just make out what looked like a crack in the glass of the side window as he made to land his own chopper; this implied a mission of some kind.

"Is that her?" Rod's voice crackled over the intercom in a conspiratorial, and appreciative, whisper. It was followed by a whistle, then a curse as Reno punched his shoulder, _hard._ "Damn, brother!" Disgruntled, but compliant, Rod did not speak again. Reno's actions were those of long habit as he began in almost robotic fashion to progress through the same old routine of a landing and refueling. Less than ten seconds on the ground, in close proximity to her, and Reno's skin felt like it was on fire. Every nerve ending was pulsing, _aching_ for her to touch him. In his peripherals, he saw her legs twitch beneath the belly of her chopper. Saw the nearly imperceptible arch of her spine as she doubtless craned her neck to look for him out of the corner of her eyes and just barely snatched a glimpse of her tilted platinum head. Knew that those green eyes were gleaming golden as they assessed what they saw, and found it desirable. How Reno was aware of these things on such an intimate level, he wasn't sure. Yet his confidence that it was so did not falter. Carys wanted him, and he wanted her. To unify flesh again, and again. To return to that almost painfully brief moment of intense euphoria and gratification they had shared.

"'Bout damn time you showed up! Yer chopper was due to arrive before this one was, ya know!" The usual blunt and vulgar speech of the man who had once overseen the space operation—at least locally. Cid Highwind was not unfamiliar with Shinra operatives, even Turks, coming and going. Besides, Shinra's Turks paid well for the ability to refuel and land here any time they wished to. Always the President was plying Cid Highwind with promises of reworking the budget to breathe new life into the space program: promises that were infallibly empty. Yet just as infallibly, Cid believed them. Dreamer's Hope, Carys had called it; latching onto a dream, a hope, and refusing to let it die because it was all you had left. That, she had said, was what ailed Cid Highwind. Now, Reno looked at the man—who had rudely rubbed out the cherry of his cigarette before approaching the platforms, but still held it in his mouth to relight at the first opportunity. Reno felt his own desire for a smoke but held it at bay: he desired something else much more intimately.

"Heh, sorry 'bout that, yo." Reno replied easily, cockily: it was part of how he portrayed himself. Confident and arrogant even, and most definitely sly. A touch of cruelty completed the facade of what most people expected of Turks: they were Shinra's professional saboteurs, spies, and assassins. Turks, the ones who took all the jobs that nobody else wanted or could stomach and_** got them done**_. "We had a bit of a delay in takeoff; inclement weather, yo. You understand?" The glitter in his eyes suggested Cid had better, and the blond pilot grumbled under his breath but said nothing further as he had Reno sign the appropriate ledgers. "Not usually you runnin' the 'port, yo; what happened to the runt?" Reno was speaking, of course, of a young man who normally manned this post; a man paid by Shinra to do so.

"Sick. All this damned rain." The blunt reply was all that Cid offered as he turned and started back towards the Town proper. "Food and beds this way if you need 'em. Unless you're damned quick, inclement weather is gonna catch you out again."

"Better not risk it, Reno." Rod intoned as he eyed the sky, reflecting on Cid's words. "The clouds are coming up fast, and it's going to be nastier up there than down here." Reno scowled, and Rod shrugged in defeat; of course Reno knew that. "Whatever. Get soaked doing the checks now. I'm going to go get some grub and a nap while it pours, thanks." Reno gave him a look and stuck his tongue out as Rod retreated, turning his attention back to his own chopper. Carys had since emerged from under hers but was still focusing on her task. Naturally, she finished before he did. Standing a few feet away, she watched him silently for a minute longer, perhaps two: it felt like forever to Reno. As he was half under his own chopper, the first drops began to fall.

"You'll get drenched." Came the quip, and he smirked. Then he sobered as heavier drops fell, in increasing speed.

"Fuck." He ground out as he slid from under the chopper.

"My sentiments precisely." Carys grabbed his hand, dragging him with her down and then under the stairwell leading up to the pad. Reno felt as if his hand was drawing a strange tingling sensation from the contact, and it was spreading throughout his body like a potent drug pumping directly into his veins. Already, Carys was quite damp. Her hair was disheveled, some of it hanging or sticking to her skin where the moisture had plastered it to her neck and face in strange streaks and whorls. Her clothes already clung to her figure, but the liquid seeping into the material made it far more pronounced. It couldn't be comfortable, he realized, as the sudden shock and cold made her body react in predictable fashion. Clearly chilled, she shuddered and dragged off her Turk coat, which held most of the offending rain. The white shirt was still stuck to her, and Reno realized that she was wearing a sports bra with a tank top over it under her dress shirt. That was surprising: since she'd been made a Turk, he had only seen her wear sports bras, and at times not even that, unless she was expressly 'ordered' to wear something . . . fancy. Some missions were like that. All of them had had to dress up in formal clothes, including high end underthings, at least once.

Redirecting his thoughts, Reno observed that while he was a bit drier, it was not by much. The sky had really opened up almost immediately. His coat joined hers to dry on the central support just above their heads. At least they were shielded from the rain under here. They had used the access door for maintaining the stair well and beneath the platforms, but the actual underside of the stairs was enclosed. There was some rain getting in through a small hole in the air vent up above their heads, but it wasn't bad. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw her quiver again. Clearing his throat, he tried to initiate polite conversation . . . tried to think of 'safe' topics. "Some weather, huh?" A wry chuckle was his reward. Movement caught his attention, and he turned his head to track it: this was a mistake.

"You're staring, Capellirossi." She had removed her boots and pants, which were also damp. Discarded heedlessly in a corner. "You've already seen me naked, remember?" This little jest had the appropriate effect, acting like a jab in the gut.

"Not likely I'll ever forget." Was his attempt at a glib response. "But just in case . . . ." There was no further reserve to his resolve to keep his distance. To not pursue the matter further. To stop wanting _**more**_ of her. To stop craving her like the most potent addiction he'd ever had. Carys expected it, seemed to welcome it even, as his hand unerringly found her hips and pulled her body flush with his own. His hands caressing every millimeter of exposed skin as they sought proper holds to achieve the desired effects. One found the bun at the nape of her neck, tangled in her long hair and loosed yet more thick, damp coils. The other curved over her body to increase the contact with her bare skin. A low groan that was her name was answered in kind. Panting as he captured her lips in a hungry kiss, another moan was muffled as her lips parted eagerly, her tongue seeking entrance to his own mouth. With conscious effort, he broke the fervent kiss to look her squarely in the eyes. "Say no, and I'll go away . . . ." It was more groan than words, but she smiled at him and pulled him back, her lips finding his earlobe and nipping, sucking, in a way that drove him mad.

"I . . . want . . . you . . . Reno." Each word, each fucking syllable, was a sultry purr against his skin as she moved lower before settling on the pulsing hollow just above his collarbone. The point where his neck joined his shoulder, and where she could doubtless see his blood was pumping furiously beneath his skin. This is where she suckled, hard and with no fear of leaving marks. Reno found, now with her backed up against the wall, that their dissimilar heights were advantageous: her being taller meant that he did not have to lift her up. Carys had merely to rise to her tiptoes on her right foot to be perfectly poised.

"Caz—" He began to speak, using a pet name he had come up with for her and which she had approved of nearly a year prior: only he ever called her that, and only in private. She cut him off, moving her body against his to remind him of her wants, her needs, that he had as yet left unfulfilled. A nonverbal reprimand, demanding rectification. The hiss of pleasure she earned from him made her eyes practically gleam in the dark—although, the Mako doubtless was the root of the effect. Her eyes were so very expressive; Reno loved her eyes. Always had.

"Do it." Now she was panting. "Stop teasing!" This was a command if ever he had heard one. Well, then he would have to oblige. After all, she still technically outranked him. He did not heed caution or even rational thought any more than she did as he proceeded to satisfy her demands. Doing so, Reno was incapable of any sound at all, instead taking his own turn to find that sweet spot on her neck and suck. Still, a thought did occur to him: this was pure heaven. He had died and gone to heaven in her embrace. Even if it was hell, well then, he would go willingly. So long as she was there waiting for him. As he pleasured her, she began to have more difficultly muffling the noises she was making. Reno felt this was to his credit and smirked smugly as he captured her lips for another kiss, swallowing the soft moan Carys had been about to breathe out. "Reno!" His name on her lips, spoken in such a manner, stirred something in him. Something deep, and he suspected very much primal. It was in this exact moment that he began to realize he was truly at risk of falling in love with her.

And he did not give a single fuck what anyone was going to have to say about it.

As both of their pleasures mounted, building towards the peak, Reno increased his pace. He was not aware enough for his rational mind to pay attention to the little details it was unconsciously collecting. Details such as Carys smelled slightly different than before, in a good way; or that she seemed far more sensitive to his ministrations—a fact he would much later muse he had thought impossible; or that her body was exhibiting signs of change that were distinctly visible even through three layers of wet cotton. Instead, all he could focus on and recognize in the moment was the intensity of her climax as it crested. His own completion was so very close . . . a moment later his it burst from him with a force he had never experienced. So intense was it that it was nearly painful, and he felt no shame whatsoever as he crushed their bodies together and groaned her name like a prayer for salvation as he spent himself within her. Neither made any effort to separate or right their appearances, nor was either aware of their dumbstruck audience, for several more moments.

* * *

**C**id had scowled fiercely as the brighter redhead and the woman stubbornly persisted in attempting to complete the checks and refueling before the rain hit. This had deepened when the rain, as predicted, did in fact begin to dribble down, then quickly escalating to a complete torrential downpour that obscured the view of everything even a few feet from the window. Grumbling and cursing under his breath, he decided to ignore them as he just barely made out two blurry figures dashing down the stairwell. If they stayed out in the rain, that was their problem. If they caught their death of cold, well that was, too. Yet the other redheaded Turk, the darker and shorter haired one, was looking out with a nearly anxious expression. "What's eatin' you?"

"They might not be best left alone together; she might do things to him." Rod wasn't lying; from what he knew of Carys's reputation, she was not at all adverse to violence or killing. More importantly, Carys was under very strict orders from the President whereas she was supposed to be on 'house arrest', and if she was here that meant Veld or Tseng must be around somewhere, too. And Reno had a reputation as a troublemaker; even having the tiny bit of knowledge that Reno had offered up—stating under entirely too much liquor that he liked Carys—didn't reassure him. "I really should go and check on them, at least."

"Not 'til this rain lets up a bit;" Cid scowled again, nodding towards the window. "Ain't nobody goin' nowhere 'til then."

"No, you don't understand!" Rod was exasperated, but the concern was deeper. "It's really very important that they aren't left alone together . . ." Now his voice dropped so only Cid could hear him. Not that anyone else was around. "Her job is very specific; she's usually on detail for the President and Vice President personally. If President Shinra were to find out she was that close to another man, alone with him . . . ." Cid misinterpreted this; Rod was certain. Yet it had the proper effect as Cid cursed and grabbed an umbrella. Standing, the older man tromped over to the door and yanked it open with more curses.

"You comin' or not?"

Rod did not need to be told twice as he moved to follow Cid out. As they walked towards the stairwell, both became acutely aware of the fact the access door beneath the stairs was ajar ever so slightly. Or that neither Reno nor Carys were up on the platforms, nor in their respective choppers. Rod made a rude sound and sped up. Cid groused quietly as he kept pace; the young Turk checked himself just enough to not come out from under the very large umbrella Cid was carrying. Still, he reached the door and quickly slipped inside: he did not realize what he was walking in on right away. The space was deceptively large once you were under the stairs, and there was a small wall down the center shielding half the space from immediate view. Cid was only a couple steps behind him, having shut the umbrella impressively deftly to avoid getting rained on. It was the sounds that alerted them.

Moaning: quiet though it might be, and drowned out under the rain, it was still moaning.

Other sounds of a rather obvious origin were registered as Rod turned redder than Reno's hair. Never mind the smell of sex permeating the enclosed space. Cid looked a bit taken aback as he was the first to make out the couple in the far corner, only _**just**_ visible past the edge of the center support that acted as a sort of wall. Even Cid had the grace to flush as he grabbed the clearly stunned Rod and turned him right around. Shoving him out the door as the pair behind them were obviously reaching their finale, Cid growled at him to shut up and walk: he had no idea if either of the two heard him. Opening the umbrella, he all but dragged the still sputtering Turk with him back towards the house that served as the Inn for Shinra employees and officials. Maybe they had got lucky and had been unnoticed, the couple too absorbed in each other to realize. The door seemed to have other plans as it shut, loudly, behind them in the gust of wind that kicked up. '_Well, fuck._' Cid thought acerbically to himself.

* * *

**C**arys did not care that they'd been caught by Cid. Reno took her word for it that she'd ensure he didn't talk; bribery was nothing new to either of them. That he would deal with Rod was equally understood. They remained under the stairs for over an hour more, waiting out the rain. Reno watched her idly as Carys removed her shirt and tank top, ringing both out—first rain and now sweat having made them damp all over again. A small fire was burning a couple inches above the floor: it was not regular fire, and did not actually burn, but it put off heat. Materia, Reno thought, though he had not seen her use it. Carys was hanging her clothes on the wall to dry as he considered her peripherally. Something about her, specifically since he had last seen her on December 10th, was puzzling him. He couldn't put his finger on it, though. Rummaging in a small bin in a corner had yielded a small, clean cloth she had used to clean herself up, then she had tossed him a second one. At least she wasn't ignoring him again. Not immediately, anyway. Why had she been ignoring him? Beyond the usual, that was; everyone knew fraternization between employees was frowned upon. Carys had never much cared about that, though. The rumors about her and Genesis Rhapsodos had been positively scandalous, for fuck's sake. Others said she'd slept with each of the Firsts, possibly all three at once. Shrugging without really thinking about it, Reno dismissed the thoughts: even if that were true, they were all gone. Besides, she didn't seem interested in anybody else now. Clearing his throat as he straightened up as he remained as inoffensive as possible on his side of the fire.

"So, have you been cleared of house arrest, then?" Gods, he was an idiot. Of all the things to say, **that** was what came out?!

"No." So he had struck a nerve; it bothered her that she was still a caged bird. Free to go wherever she pleased, to fly, if only she were free of the cage that held her prisoner. That cage was Shinra, or rather the President. Spying his scowl as she wrung out her long hair, she elaborated only a little. "Special mission, special clearance, special Turk." Clenching his jaw, Reno nodded curtly: of course that made sense. They had needed a job only she could do carried out. Carys might officially be the newest Turk, but she was undeniably one of the best. Carys was intuitive, too. "Something's bothering you, Capellirossi." Straight to the heart of the matter, literally.

Her words were like a physical blow.

"I just can't figure why me." He'd said it before he'd finished thinking it through. Cursed himself again for being an idiot and looked at her. Too late to take it back; now he had to face the music.

"I beg your pardon?" Lines creased her forehead, and the start of a scowl was somehow sexy as hell. There was something wrong with him, of that there was no mistake. "Why you?" Holding her underwear, which was ruined where he'd ripped one side, in one hand as she approached him, she eyed him like a predator. "Do you mean why did I ask you to fuck me again?" Reno almost flinched at the acid in her tone and her choice of words.

Unable to speak for reasons he couldn't quite explain even to himself, he nodded: his eyes never wavered from hers, glowing golden as they now were. She scoffed lightly, shoving her panties against his chest.

"The first time, it could have been called a moment of weakness." Golden lamps bore into his own blue eyes like daggers. "This time, it was an itch that I needed scratched. You're the best fuck I've had, and you conveniently appeared when I needed a fix." Something in that gaze told him she didn't really mean what she said. "Let's leave it at that, shall we? Both of us would be in a tight spot if this got out, wouldn't you say?" Now that, she meant.

"Do you think I'm the kind to kiss and tell?" Reno put as much of his usual sly cockiness into it as possible; almost, it might have fooled her. It would have done, had she been anyone else. But she wasn't anyone else, and Carys wasn't fooled. Not in the slightest. Still, she smiled.

"Don't think twice, Capellirossi." Grabbing his shirt front, she roughly pulled his lips against her own, taking a kiss from him. Demanding it, her tongue forcing its way into his mouth just as before. Arousal spread through him like liquid fire even as she pulled away, panting. Both of their lips were doubtlessly swollen and bruised. Never mind the obvious marks elsewhere that each of them bore. Marks that were tell-tale signs that they'd each had sex and had not been gentle about it. Love marks that, were anyone to see them together naked, would match up. After a few thudding heartbeats, she licked her lips and spoke softly in a very throaty voice. "You're not the kind to kiss and tell, and neither am I."

A groan was his only response as he leaned in, her hand still fisted in his shirtfront, and kissed her again. Roughly, she pushed him against the wall. From there, she put her hands on his shoulder and pushed. As he slid down the wall, she went with him, not breaking contact even once. The floor was hard, but neither of them noticed. There was a need in her, one that was shocking even to her, to feel him. To be with him, and only him. It was maddening . . . yet, miraculously, he did not deny her. Rather, he seemed to share that insatiable need. Their little 'game' of cat and mouse, these secretive rendezvous, was a dangerous one. Already, it had gone too far. No longer was it simply banter and stolen brushes of physical contact. No, now it was so much more. Truly, they should quit while they were ahead; twice was twice too many already. Yet, they both knew they wouldn't. They would likely continue to take every opportunity to do this. And, if the wrong people found out, it would get at least one of them killed.

It would be worth it.

"Holy—!" Whatever Reno had been about to say, he swallowed on a gasp as Carys immediately began to use him to pleasure herself shamelessly. Did she have any idea how she looked like this? Reno memorized the view: one day, he'd tell her that she looked like an angel with her face flushed like that. Pure bliss on her face and evident in every inch of her body: proof that in that moment, she was utterly at peace. With her hair wild and unbound, spilling over them both like a heavy curtain of silken platinum curls. This was what Reno would never forget, so long as he lived. This would be how he always saw Carys. Still, the very nature of what they were doing meant they could not afford to be caught. It was expected to be brief—but oh so fervent!—as a result. The pounding of the rain was still audible, but it wouldn't last forever. Then, someone else would come looking if they were still absent; Cid and Rod might be convinced to be silent, but others might not. Tseng or Veld—whichever was her 'chaperone' this time—absolutely would come looking eventually. This stolen bit of private intimacy—dare he call it paradise?—could only last until the rain let up.

Both knew it.

When her climax struck, she clung to him, her back arching so that every glorious inch of her was flush with him. As she moaned into his shoulder, it sounded suspiciously like his name. His own completion was just as intense, and when he cried out there was no question that it had been her name on his lips. Raggedly trying to catch their breaths, they remained as they were. Spent and each still quivering in the aftermath of their furious passions. As her breathing returned to normal, her heart rate slowing and her skin cooled, Carys slowly removed herself from where she'd been draped over his body. There would be little hope of cleaning up in here this time: a shower would be necessary. Carys slowly began the task of re-dressing. This was made a little more difficult when her limbs felt a bit like rubber. Sluggishly, Reno began to do the same.

As she slowly pulled her tank top back on, Reno got to his feet and shakily righted his clothes. Carys thought as she began to work the buttons on her dress shirt. Reno did things to her that she had never experienced, and which she craved more of. He was the newest 'drug', and she was the addict: she craved him more than she had ever craved anything else. It was with disdain that she thought this, for she truly was an addict. The number of substances she had used already in her lifetime would have astounded the redhead if he knew. So Reno was easy for her mind to categorize as 'the new fix'. What was more, being near him did wonders for her. Just being in proximity to Reno soothed her, calmed her, and gave her an overall feeling of wellness. In the past two weeks, she'd not turned to any of her usual fixes; Reno had made them defunct. Elective rather than compulsory. Reno was a haven for her. Reno was comfort.

Reno was _**worth it**_.

Worth even Hojo finding out. Worth the long end game. Perhaps her mind reconciled it as a 'fix', but deep down she knew he was more than that. She was just too damaged to be able to admit it, even to herself. Damaged in ways she might never fully recover from. That thought shook her to her core. Quickly, she buried it; those feelings were better left locked away, unexplored. Properly examining them would only spell heartache. Instead, she focused on making herself presentable. Reno finished dressing before she did. He looked only slightly more disheveled than normal. For him, this was acceptable. Nobody expected his uniform to be damn near perfect like they did hers. As she grabbed her hair, twisting it in her hands a few times to make a tight, thick singular coil, she nodded to where his goggles still lay abandoned on the floor. Chuckling, he bent to retrieve them as she spun the coil of her hair back into its derelict former bun. Unexpectedly, his hands covered hers. Several of the pins she used were stuck in his mouth, his expression one of concentration as he took the unruly mass to task. The tie was deftly placed a moment later, and he began expertly placing the pins. At her curious glance as she stepped away once he had finished, he shrugged. "Lots of practice."

Carys did not press him to elucidate. There was no purpose, and it did not matter now besides. Already, she'd decided. A non-committal sound was her response and he chuckled. Desperate for a distraction, she went to the door and threw it open. It was still raining, but much lighter than before. A flash of lightning streaked across the sky and she took a deep breath. The scent of fresh rain and damp earth was one of her favorites. A rare treat, too. It was nonexistent in Midgar, even atop the plates. The only time she got this chance to breath air that was at least mostly pollution free was when she went on missions that took her to cleaner places. Greener and wilder ones, even. Gathering her courage, she looked to Reno briefly. "This cannot happen again, Capellirossi." There: his jaw clenched again. That pronouncement displeased him. "This lapse in judgment is a flaw that could prove fatal. I trust you understand?" Despite his scowl, there was an intensity in his gaze that she knew was reflected in her own. Without another word, she stepped out into the rain. Reno watched her go, cursing to himself. To think that they could have more than this—or that they could have this at all—was foolish.

Reno was no fool.

* * *

**N**umb.

That was the only way she could explain it. Carys felt numb, those two pink lines mocking her. When she had started to feel ill, she had appealed to Veld to please make arrangements that would allow her to see a doctor. One that was unaffiliated with Shinra, and private. Veld, knowing her history with Hojo, had complied. Now the doctor had shown her the results of the only test she hadn't tried before. The only test that had come back _positive_! Though she knew the doctor was still speaking—she was a kind woman and faintly reminded her of Reno—Carys was not listening. Rapidly, her mind began to _**think**_. To process, and to plan. There were extremely specific, and limiting, circumstances surrounding her fertility. Ones that she had blatantly taken for granted. It had simply not occurred to her that she might get pregnant; the only time she had before, it had been Hojo's doing. A specifically planned instance of trickery to bypass her physiological safeguards. This was different. This was one that she wanted. It had been her very conscious choice for it to be Reno. Had been deliberately arranged with Veld and Tseng for that forbidden tryst in her SOLDIER quarters . . . now more than two months prior. Since she often experienced amenorrhea, it had not even struck her as odd. It was practically normal for her to not have a regular period.

Shifting gears, her brain began to prioritize. Keeping Hojo away from her was paramount. Keeping the identity of the father a secret for as long as possible was nearly tantamount. '_Oh Gods, what would I even say to him?_' The scenarios didn't pan out well in her head, with many of them ending most unpleasantly. Reno was only eighteen! It did not even rise in her mind that the father was anyone else: only Rufus had used her, and she loathed him. Still, there must be a way to prove it. Now, she did pay attention to the doctor. " . . . of course, we'll have to do an ultrasound to confirm and get a rough estimate of how far along you are—" Carys cut her off.

"Is there a way to establish paternity?" She knew there was, but she decided to play it off like she didn't. The only times she had been with Reno were the tenth and the twenty-fourth of December.

"Oh certainly, there are a few ways." The doctor did not even bat an eyelash at the implication that she did not know who the father was. Carys decided she liked her. "Depending on how close your interactions with each partner were, it may even be possible to determine just from the dating scan." Carys nodded, understanding perfectly well what this woman meant. Tapping the cot, the doctor indicated she lie down. Despite her discomfort with this sort of thing, the need to know compelled Carys to submit to this. It was too important. As the medic prepared the supplies, Carys unbuttoned her pants. She inched them down just far enough while she pushed her shirt up. "So, you know what to expect, then." The lady doctor observed wryly. "Is this your first time having one of these?" Carys shook her head. "Oh?" This seemed to intrigue her.

"I was pregnant once before; it ended in a stillbirth." Suddenly the older woman had covered her hand with her own, squeezing gently.

"I'm sorry, dear. No wonder you're so nervous." The look she gave was one that Carys could only describe as motherly. Full of sympathy and understanding. '_If you knew the half of it!_' Carys thought begrudgingly as the doctor cleared her throat and squeezed the gel onto her stomach and a small amount onto the tip of the wand. "Let's try this and see if we can make out anything; if not, I may have to try to do a trans-vaginal one." Something in her expression must have given away her alarm at that phrase. "You can absolutely say no to that, though, and just wait to try again in a couple weeks." Swallowing hard, Carys nodded as the doctor pressed the wand to her belly, moving it around a little before turning the machine on. It was immediately obvious to Carys that the baby was Reno's: already, the hands, feet, and other features are easily recognizable. "Oh, well that's a bit of a surprise! You're already quite a bit along!" The doctor smiled at her. As the measurements were taken, the machine giving the best guess it could for gestation, Carys simply stared at the screen. "It looks like you're about . . . thirteen weeks, give or take a few days." Now the doctor smiled widely at her. "This means you're in your second trimester, and the risk of miscarriage has become significantly lower." The expression changed slightly. "I have to ask, to understand your history, if you ever knew the cause of your previous stillbirth; I apologize, but I do need to know." Carys frowned, turning her eyes from the screen.

"It was simply too early; the infant did not survive the stress of premature labor." Was her clipped reply. "The reason for the premature labor was never confirmed, but I had been feeling rather terrible for a few days prior." Urged to list her symptoms, she did so. "Headaches, blurry vision, vomiting, and dizziness mostly."

"That sounds suspiciously like pre-eclampsia. That can be very dangerous, for you and the baby." The doctor frowned. "Well, we'll just have to keep an eye on you then, won't we?" Carys nodded, having returned her attention to the screen. The doctor was smiling. "Now, as to establishing paternity—"

"That won't be necessary after all." Carys cut her off. "A gestation of 13 weeks puts conception around the tenth of December; that means the paternity is uncontested." The doctor blinked, seemingly at a loss for words.

"I see; I get the impression that this pleases you." Carys privately was disappointed when the doctor ended the ultrasound while she spoke. "Is that correct?"

"It does." Another curt reply; she did like this woman. She just didn't trust anyone. "The only other man who has," There was a bitterness in the way she hesitated. "Touched me . . . wasn't by choice. And he did so more recently."

"Do you mean you were raped?" Despite her professional manner, it was clear the doctor was alarmed. Angered on her behalf, even.

"That's a word for it, but it is more an obligation for me, unfortunately." Carys murmured softly, her hand absently resting over her still flat abdomen. Being a former SOLDIER and a current Turk meant she was in top physical fitness; it would be a bit yet before her pregnancy made itself obvious. "It is part of my job." The doctor frowned but didn't ask further questions. Instead, she made recommendations about monitoring her health, provided her with some vitamins and something for the nausea and vomiting, and told her when to come back. As Carys exited the exam room, Veld stood from the chair where he had patiently waited.

"Well?" Arching a brow at her, he gave her a look that said he had worried.

"You realize I am no longer a child?" Carys arched a brow right back, and Veld sighed.

"Of course, and it is a fine young woman you have become." Now he offered his arm. "Indulge a concerned guardian anyway?" Both were aware that the doctor was smiling as she watched them leave.

Carys snorted. "As if you haven't got a guess."

"Naturally, but this is the sort of thing fathers—or in my case a guardian—like to hear from the original source." Veld had led her out to the sidewalk by now, and Tseng was waiting with the car to take them back up to the plate. Where Veld had found this doctor, or how he had known he could trust her, Carys didn't know: A Slums doctor wasn't usually beyond Shinra's reach. This one must be very special. As they got into the car, Tseng taking the driver's seat, Veld gave her a look to indicate he was waiting. Sighing, she let her head flop back on the headrest.

"You're not going to drop this, are you?"

"No, and you know that I will go back in and ask the doctor if I have to. As your superior and employer, I can get access if it will affect your job." Veld had arched an eyebrow again. Frustrated, she groaned.

"Very well, but if anyone else finds out, I shall kill you both." It was not an idle threat. Reluctantly, which spoke volumes to both men, she retrieved a small paper from the packet the doctor had given her. This she handed to Veld. At first, his brow furrowed. Then, he sucked in a breath of shock as he looked at the information on the ultrasound image more closely. Unlike the rest of his Turks, Veld was fully aware of the previous stillbirth. Regaining his composure, he looked her over calmly.

"December?"

That one word was enough. Carys took a deep breath and let it out, calming her mind and nerves. Veld was an ally. He had helped her and protected her many times already. Tseng had equally proven himself trustworthy. They would keep her secret. Meeting Veld's eyes, she nodded. Tseng swore softly in Wutaian from the driver's seat, which prompted a response from Veld; both men knew she spoke the language fluently. As the sheer absurdity of her situation struck her, she snickered. Then she laughed. In the span of a few hours, her life had become even more complicated and dangerous than before. That was something she had thought damn near impossible.

How very wrong she had been.

After she had stopped laughing, Veld asked her what she wanted to do about it. Shrugging, she responded simply with, "Keep Hojo away. Failing that, I'll fight like hell to keep my baby." Both men were quiet. "I know what Hojo would do. There should never be any more children like me, Sephiroth, Angeal, or Genesis."

"I will do everything in my power, Carys." Veld spoke softly, but seriously. Then, more hesitantly, "Do you think it wise to leave him in the dark?" This was, of course, a reference to her obvious plan to keep Reno uninformed; Veld needed no spoken confirmation to tell him she had no intention of telling the redhead he was an expectant father.

"You know that it is a risk, and one that I will not invite upon him. Even for me, this is not without significant hazards. Better than anyone, you know why I _**cannot**_ tell him." Carys sighed, rubbing her left temple as she let her head rest on the back of the seat again. Veld sighed wearily in his own turn, then looked to Tseng, who met his eyes in the rear-view mirror.

"Very well. Tseng, you are to speak of this to no one, not even the President. I trust that will be a non-issue." Tseng's soft smirk, touched by sympathy for Carys, was more than enough for an answer. With that, it was settled. They would help her, however and whenever they could. All that was left was for her to finalize her plan, and then do her best to stay afloat in the storm that was coming.

"Don't think twice." She muttered to herself as they pulled into Shinra's parking garage. Veld fielded the inquiry for the desk as they returned to the Shinra Lobby. Carys paid all this no heed. Second-guessing could be deadly, so she would do none of it. There was no room for error, nor for distraction. Such distraction as Reno and Rude ahead of them, stepping up to wait for the elevator even as they did. "Don't think twice." Repeating the mantra softly to herself made it more powerful, especially as the first smooth lie fell from her lips upon Reno asking where the three of them had got off to. "A trivial errand for the President. You know, the kind that is private and so classified that they don't even tell us the details." Veld was quick to change topics, reminding the two of their current assignment.

"If the two of you don't get a move on, you will be late for the boat. Surely I've no need to remind you." Grousing about Veld being a slave driver, and not meaning a word of it, Reno fell silent and probed no further. Tseng and Carys got off on the 'Turk' floor where their 'formal' offices were located, while Veld continued to give a report to the President. Carys chuckled darkly to herself as she realized that for all she'd said it to herself, it was highly plausible Reno would not think twice about her absence for a long time, if at all. First, he'd have to connect the breadcrumbs, and she was going to make those hard to find. Better safe than sorry when it could get someone killed.


End file.
